Sitting in a restaurant in Cherry Creek, minding my own business -- which means, of course, everyone else's -- I spotted a table of well-groomed, well-heeled white-hairs, the sort of people whose third homes might be in Aspen. They poured an amusing but not inexpensive red wine, then raised their glasses in a toast -- not to the day's stock-market results, not to a sale on Range Rovers, but to... More >>>